


When they come for me

by Aeacus



Series: The Dreams of Travellers [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: AU, Harem Setting, M/M, Romance, Spa Treatment, slightly OOC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2012-12-02
Packaged: 2017-11-20 03:27:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 8,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/580799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeacus/pseuds/Aeacus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A visitor spends the evening with a companion that he wasn't expecting. Slightly out of character/more mature versions of the characters. Alternate Universe. Just me writing some character play.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU involving two Homestuck characters (which I don't own of course, I just want to borrow for a little). The setting isn't going to be fully explained or described because it's not important. Just think exotic. There is some implied relationship connotations between two males but nothing explicit. Both characters that I am borrowing are much more mature than their canon counterparts. Enough warnings, please enjoy.

The man walked into the room. Soft robes hung from his shoulders like regalia would hang off of a prince. They were loosely belted at the waist, promising but not revealing. The soft fabric swirled around his long legs as he walked softly forward. The deep purple silk showed its quality in the warm lamp light.

“This is not what I requested.”

“You requested the best. The most expensive. One who would make it worth your while.” His voice was like warm honey. It flowed from his lips with a particular lilt that I couldn’t place but I would describe as musical.

“I did not request a man.”

“No. You requested me. There is no better present here. And you would have to travel very far and for a very long time to find one who would be.”

“Well, I’m not one to turn down an adventure. But I refuse to pay until you have been proven to me.”

“Of course.” There was no hesitation. He carelessly flicked a hand back to the door of the chamber. At the signal it was closed without a sound, but he never looked back. His confidence was evident in his posture but in a way that never belied arrogance or haughtiness. He simply knew what he was capable of and he knew that no other would be capable of the same.

He did not advance but waited for me so study him. His golden hair was somehow pushed back from his face into soft points that defied gravity. It’s length looked like it was just short enough to enjoy running fingers through it but long enough to grip. The next thing to catch my eyes was the color of his. They were pure amber and had such startling clarity as if lit not by the lamps around the room but from behind. In those eyes I could see great intelligence; something that is often lacking in many of the companions that I have had. The golden orange watched me as my gaze traced the angles and planes of his face. His features were very aristocratic. He had a very straight nose and a strong clean jawline. His skin was clear and the tone had a sun-kissed effect. The rest of his exposed skin also had that golden look.

Broad shoulders held the top of the robe open in a nice wide vee that began to expose the strong musculature underneath. A rose colored sash held the rest closed and helped to emphasize a pleasantly narrow waist. His proportions indicated that he was well built. I estimated that he was probably taller than me too.

“Do you play chess?” I asked.


	2. Chapter 2

“Do you play chess?” I asked.

He tilted his head slightly at me as if in amusement. “Yes. I know most games.”

“Would you like to play a round with me?”

“It would be my pleasure.” He walked quietly and with fluid grace to bookcase against the wall. Long delicate fingers lifted the board and the pieces from their resting place. He brought it over to the table next to the chair I was occupying and set it down without even a rattle from the marble pieces. I gestured for him to take the other chair and he nodded respectfully in return before settling lightly on the leather. My chair creaked when I leaned forward to make my opening move, but his didn’t even whisper as he easily flicked his wrist to relocate his first piece.

We flew through the early game, setting up strategies and trading a few pieces. I paused as we enter mid game to review his board. I’ve played a lot of games against many different people. I considered myself a connoisseur of playing styles, but this man’s was completely unique. I wouldn’t even describe it as a mix of styles. At first I thought that maybe he had lied to me and didn’t know how to play. Or that he was going to lose to me on purpose. As it turned out, he was simply a genius.

“Checkmate.” His voice carried that same amusement I had seen earlier, but his face was expressionless. I examined the board and found his word true. He had bested me halfway through the traditional mid game. He took a minimal number of pieces and trapped my king behind my own moves.

“Would you indulge me in another round?”

“Certainly.” His quick hands and quicker fingers gently coaxed the board back into its original position within seconds. “Shall I start this round?”

“Of course,” I wave a hand at the board, trying to come up with a strategy to counter his. He nods curtly and takes his move. The early game opens in a similar fashion with several slight changes from my perspective. I made sure he wouldn’t trap me the same way twice. I entered the mid game with several attacks, taking out most of his pieces.

I was about to call my moves to checkmate when he softly called, “Checkmate.”

I felt my jaw drop in surprise as I saw the pawn meekly holding my king hostage. When I finally collected myself, I looked up and saw a small twitch at the edges of his lips, a small break in his carefully blank mask. “Incredible. A third?”

“If you wish.” He reset the board then nodded his head for me to start. Not wasting anytime, I began an aggressive campaign. I was about to close a net around his royals when he told me, “Check.”

I spent the next several moves dancing with him to slip out of any check positions. I was feeling pretty proud of myself for surviving for a longer amount of time against him before I realized that he had effectively moved all of his pieces behind my attacking line.

“Bloody hell,” I cursed quietly. I looked up at him and met his amber eyes. “You are playing with me.”

“Of course. I am playing chess with you. You asked me to.”

“No. You are bloody toying with me,” I laughed. “You are not making this easy.”

“Would you like me to? I was under the impression that you would enjoy a challenge. I can still let you win.”

“No. That’s not what I want. I want a companion, not a slave. You’re a bloody genius when it comes to chess.”

“I am considered a genius when it comes to many things.”

“Humble too.” He nodded again with a stronger twitch on his lips. I frowned and rubbed a hand over my chin as I contemplated the board. I did want to win, but I didn’t want him to let me win. Grinning, I moved my queen into a vulnerable but dangerous position. If I couldn’t win, I would at least give him a good fight. That twitch on his lips became a smirk as he played along and took my queen.

I continued to draw out the battle, losing pieces but taking some of his as well. Eventually he did pin my king and called for the third time, “Checkmate.”

“Brilliant.” I leaned back into the seat, enjoying my defeat. I was sure that he could beat any of the so called masters of chess that I had encountered in my travels. As he was returning the game to the bookcase, I noticed a mandolin leaning against the corner.

“Do you play the mandolin?”


	3. Chapter 3

“Do you play the mandolin?”

“Yes. I play many instruments.”

“Would you play for me?”

“It would be my pleasure.” He picked up the instrument and returned to his chair. The way he cradled the shaped wood in his hands reminded me of a man handling his lover. Long graceful fingers skimmed over the varnish as they moved up to the neck and across the front of the body. He only took a couple moments to tune the mandolin to his ear. He looked to me before beginning.

I have very little skill when it comes to creating anything musical but I have a lot of appreciation for those who can. Within my travels I have heard many styles from many instruments, but I have never responded to music the way I did to this mandolin and its master.

He coaxed the sound out from the strings with gentle touches. Soft, quiet notes rose into the air, gentle and comforting. He layered a harmony with the melody, building up the sound with joy and bliss. I was reminded of happy points in my childhood as the song frolicked and drifted through pleasant riffs and scales. The song then dove into heartbreak and loss. The strings grieved with mournful notes. As high as my spirits were, they now sunk as low. I actually felt the pricks of tears stinging my eyes before the song swung again. Rebellious and strong, bold notes broke forth in strife. They struggled for what was loss, fought to regain the peace and happiness promised at the beginning. My blood rushed as the music reminded me of similar moments when I had to fight for my life against the dangers of the road. I actually found myself at the edge of my seat as the song rose up and finally burst into triumph. Victory soared through the notes. My heart was full with emotion as the mandolin sang out.

The exaltation drifted down into quiet celebration. The battle was won and it was time to return home. I sunk back down into my chair as the music lulled me down from the rush. That honeyed tongue joined the mandolin. He accompanied the instrument without words, just lifting his voice with warm tenor tones. As I closed my eyes in order to enjoy the sound more, I felt a tear run down my cheek. Never before had I been brought to tears with a single song, but this one was incredible. Eventually the mandolin’s strings still, but he continued to sing, voice shifting to a foreign language. It wasn’t one I was familiar with despite my travels, but I didn’t need to understand the words to understand their meaning. It was a summary of the journey that the instrument had guided through. Peace at first, then a great tragedy interrupts the tranquility leaving behind a loss that is reclaimed after a great struggle and an even greater victory, and then finishes with a triumphant return home still tinged by that tragedy.

I kept my eyes closed even after the last few notes disappeared into silence, trying to savor the beauty I had just experienced. When I open them, I was surprised to find my companion across the room, gently setting the mandolin back into the corner. I hadn’t even heard him move.

I was staring at him as he turned back to me, his gold eyes soft as they matched mine. There was a brief small smile lingering on his lips that he tucked away very quickly. I felt honored to have seen it and desperately wanted to see it again, but his composure had returned.

“Are you hungry? I can have someone bring us food.” He headed towards the door to do just that.

“Do you cook?” 


	4. Chapter 4

“Do you cook?”

“Yes. I know many dishes.” He paused.

“Would you make me something?”

“It would be my pleasure,” he bowed his head to me, “but to do so, I would have to travel to the kitchens.”

“I will accompany you then,” I offered as I rose to my feet.

“I suppose that would make it easier to ask for your opinion.” He cracked the door and murmured to someone stationed outside. There was a flurry of movement then he opened the door further and gestured broadly to me. I followed him out the door and down the hall. The old stone was lit by torches whose warm light haloed about my guide’s golden hair. I was so taken with the effect that it startled me when he stopped to turn into the kitchens. He looked back at me with a raised eyebrow and I merely grinned at him. He just shook his head slightly as he went in.

The kitchens were as grand as the rest of the place. On the far side of the room two large doors led to a pantry and a cold room beyond a large long counter in the center. Behind the counter there was a bank of stoves and ovens with the utensils, plates, pots, and pans all stacked up neatly in glass fronted cabinets on either side. I had to suppress my curiosity and desire to explore the room as he pulled out a stool for me. He asked me where I was from then disappeared into the food areas with my answer.

He came back with an armful of food stuffs that I instantly recognized from my homeland. He laid them out on the counter then went about gathering tools required for whatever dishes he had in mind. I thoroughly enjoyed watching him move around the kitchen, gliding gracefully without making a whisper of noise. He was a paradigm of efficiency as it looked as if each movement was carefully thought out, but still had a grace that connected everything together in almost a dance-like fashion.

My small fantasy of having him a dance partner was interrupted when he asked me my opinion about several styles of dishes. The way he described them to me was enough to make my mouth water. His mouth twitched in that almost smile at my apparent enthusiasm. Once he was satisfied with his menu he began his work.

We started and kept up conversation as he prepared the food. Our topics ranged from the mundane to the profound. I told him stories about my adventures and he listened with rapt attention, asking for further details and applauding me on certain maneuvers. His lead on the conversation tended towards theoretical discussions. Not only was he a master at chess and a brilliant musician but he was a genius at the sciences and philosophies. I know of entire cultures that would have gained much insight from him. He had very liberal ideas but understood that their conception was idealized and their application to reality very limited. Still, his solutions to problems that plagued various countries were amazing. They were conservative but effective in their approach. I was extremely impressed on his knowledge of the state of the world outside of these compound walls. His mastery of politics was very extensive with opinions fully thought out on all of the schools of thought presented by the famous and infamous philosophers of the world.

He let me know a little about his own personal research into the sciences, entertaining me with concepts and vocabulary I have briefly heard in passing at the most prestigious universities. I was always confused or brushed off when I had inquired to the professors about these topics but my companion somehow turned them transparent and I was able to follow him as he linked theories together and explained how they could be applied to improve everyday occurrences. He was even able to connect some of these proposed achievements into schemes to improve society as a whole. By the time the food was prepared, I felt enlightened. My previous points of view on several topics were extremely naive comparatively.

The aromas drifting across the room from the stove and ovens made my mouth water to the point that I had to wipe drool from the corners. I was served a plate of chilled meats and cheeses with various mustards for extra flavor. The bowl of fruit was wonderfully presented, but I could only enjoy half of it because some of varietals that had stiffer flesh were so exquisitely carved into beautiful patterns and shapes that I couldn’t bear ruining the work. I nibbled on the rest and sipped on an excellent white wine that complemented the light flavors as he explained the mechanics of a proposed governmental design while tending to a sizzling pan on the stove.

He turned several times with a wooden spoon in hand so that I could sample the dishes. He would hold the spoon up to my lips and each time I was fascinated by the complexity of the flavors. The first couple times I offered suggestions to tailor them to my specific tastes but once he got the theme, everything tasted beyond amazing. He kept it up though, offering me the spoon and I noticed his eyes tracking down to my mouth each time.

My sense of smell was swamped with delicious aromas as he pulled out and prepared the dishes that he had cooked. They were all fairly small in size so that I could sample many without becoming full. The textures were rich and the colors bold. Everything complemented each other wonderfully, even the bold red wine I found in my goblet. My companion ate lightly as he kept up the majority of the conversation. I was conflicted, trying to follow that velvet voice but also trying to savor every bite of the many dishes.

The chicken was tender and the fish melted in my mouth. The vegetables were seasoned perfectly and had a great bite to go with the mix of grains he had included. This feast was incomparable to the ones I’ve had a pleasure of attending. Even those I’ve had in the halls of kings. I told him such in between dishes and he simply nodded, accepting the compliment. To complete the meal he served me three wonderful pastries. One was moist and chocolatey, the next was flakey dough wrapped around a fruit filling, and the third was a brilliant custard with caramelized sugar on top. My tastebuds sang their praises with each bite.

“I hope that was enjoyable,” he stated as I finished.

I meekly lowered the ramekin that I had been trying to get every last scrap of custard out. With my tongue. “Oh yes! It was bloody fantastic. The best I have ever had. Have you ever been to my homeland? Because all of those flavors reminded me of home. You got the combination exactly right!”

“No. I have not travelled liked you have. I rarely leave the compound and then it’s simply to the market place.”

“Honestly? My dear chap, you astound me further! You have so much talent and so much genius. You could take the world by storm if you wanted to!”

“I have no interest in that. Would you like to return to our room?”


	5. Chapter 5

"Would you like to return to our room?”

“Certainly. We can do that,” I responded. We left the plates out on the counter as he led the way back to our previous room. I assumed that someone else from the compound would clear it away.

I thought about what he said. No interest. Then why develop all of these ideas, theories, and plan? Why do the exercise if they are never to be put into practice? Maybe he didn't know how to apply them. No, that didn't sound right. This was a very capable man. Maybe he needed someone to help him with his plans. Maybe he needed someone to get him out of here so he could start that journey. He could journey with me. How would react to me asking that? I frowned in thought, trying to come up with plausible ideas. I decided that my wild hypothesizing would do me no good as we reentered the room, especially when the man with the answer was right in front of me. The door had just closed when I asked, "Why doesn't it interest you?"

"Pardon?"

"Why don't you have an interest to go out and make something of yourself on the world stage?"

"I have all that I need here. Why should I go out there?"

"But your political theories alone could and would revolutionize the known world! Not to mention the science and mechanical innovations you have tucked away. Are you really that content to stay here?"

"I have food, shelter, and space to work. I am quite satisfied here."

"But this work as a companion is beneath you!"

"It is what I wish to do."

"You aren't being held here against your will, are you? Do you owe any debt? Are you being blackmailed into staying here?”

“No. I am perfectly free to leave at anytime. I do not have any bonds to this place except my own wishes to stay. I am waiting for someone.”

“Waiting for someone? Who is he? I might have met him in my travels, or if I meet him I can tell him that you are here!”

“I do not know.”

“Oh come on now, don’t be shy. I really do get around in my travels and could help.”

“I do not know his name,” he clarified. “I have a recurring dream where he comes to me and takes me away. But it never gives me enough information to identify him.”

“Then how will you know when you meet him?”

“I hope that he will know me.”

“That’s... that’s...”

“Silly? Preposterous? Far fetched?” he supplied with a wry smile

“Romantic,” I finished. He wouldn’t travel with me then. He would stay here waiting for that someone to take him away. I could see how others would call following that dream absurd, but I put much stock in dreams. It was dreams that set my feet travelling the lands. Dreams guided me from place to place and even brought me to the compound so that I could enjoy this night. If his dream told him to wait, then he should wait. “I hope he comes for you soon then.”

“Thank you. But enough about myself. What would you like to do next?”

I glanced around the room and my eyes settled upon an easel in the corner with a box of what I assumed to be charcoal or other similar drawing instruments.

“Do you draw?”


	6. Chapter 6

“Do you draw?”

“Yes. I use many media to create artwork.”

“Could you draw me?” I ducked my head against such a vain request. “I’ve never had a portrait done. Always on the road and never had the time for such things.”

“Certainly I can oblige you.” He wandered over to the art supplies to survey what he was working with. “Do you wish anything in particular?”

“No. Not particular,” I mused. “Let it be artist’s choice.”

“Alright.” He turned a studying eye to me and I suddenly felt self conscious. I don’t follow fashion while on travels so I keep my clothes fairly simple. Just a simple shirt of cream and jacket of gold with my personal crest on the lapel. My pants were comfortable leather that clung to me like a second skin. My boots were also fitted and very worn from my travels. I manage my hygiene when on my travels. I kept my beard trimmed and my hair cut short, to try to offset its natural tendencies to become unruly.

But those didn’t bother me. It was my mundaneness next to this man. My dull dark locks seemed even more bland compared to the silky gold of his. And my green eyes mostly hidden behind green spectacles were nothing compared to his unique ambers. Where his features are refined, mine were blocky and thick. My build was also thicker and stockier than his lithe gracefulness and my body is covered in rough black hair where he seemed to have nothing but a light layer of golden gossamer.

After waiting a moment under his scrutiny, I politely coughed to break his silent observation.

“Please sit on the edge of the bed,” he gestured to the piece of furniture. I stiffly sat down at the center and I heard the soft sigh as he shook his head and came over to me. With gentle commands and gentler touches he arranged me into a new position where I was on my side across the end of the bed. I propped myself up with my forearm supporting my head and my legs were bent. My free arm was draped lazily across my hip. Once he was happy with my pose, the artist gathered his supplies and moved them to the middle of the room facing me.

“Are you comfortable?”

“As much as I can be.”

“You will be holding that position for a while, you understand.”

“Yes yes, just get on with the picture so I’m not here any longer than I have to be,” I flapped a frustrated hand at him.

I caught an amused smirk on his face as he picked up a long delicate piece of charcoal and began the initial sketches. “As you wish.”

I didn’t break the quiet with my ramblings, letting the scratching of the drawing process fill the silence. Instead, I took the time to watch my artist as he worked. He sat slightly oblique to the bed so that he could both work on the drawing and glance at me as his reference easily. His orange eyes flicked easily over my form as he sketched the angles and contours of my body. He held the charcoal out every once in awhile as a measuring device to get my proportions accurate. I enjoyed watching his brows furrow as he concentrated on a particular section and how his tongue ran over between his lips when he was finally satisfied with the result. Eventually he changed his medium after brushing the excess dust off the page. He switched to a shorter, thicker piece of charcoal and used much more controlled strokes to get the finer details.

It was extremely soothing watching him work. He had that same grace that he apparently applied to everything he did. I could easily imagine him as a fantastic travel companion. I would no longer have to endure those long boring bouts of travel alone. One can only play so many games of solitaire before one simply wants to jump out of the train for some excitement. Granted I’ve only succumbed to that idea once, but it’s been very tempting on many occasions. I would never get tired of this man though, from his talents to his genius. I have never encountered another who has held my fascination so. He piqued my interest more in a few hours that some of my fellow world travellers do their entire lives.

I wondered briefly if he knew how to fight. Living in this compound wouldn’t require it at all, but this was a man of many talents. Even if he didn’t, I could teach him how to fight and then I could have a sparring partner for when I craved a good fisticuffs without having to turn to bar brawls. Or if a bar brawl happened, and I have been in some that weren’t my fault, then he would be an excellent man to have at my back.

“There,” he said softly, breaking me out of my thoughts. He leaned back in the wooden chair to admire his work.

“May I?” I asked eagerly.

“Of course. It is your commission after all.”

I scrambled off of the bed and stood behind him. “Marvelous...” I breathed out. On the plaque in front of him was me. A very handsome version of myself, but still me. His attention to detail was profound. The richness of the fabric was shown through the shadows and highlights that made the folds jump off the page, and the captured textures of the silk bed covers, the leather of my pants, the glint of metal on my boots, the hatching on my jacket made me believe in the tactile sensation it portrayed. I wondered at the way he drew my features, changing them from banal to majestic. Did he really see me that way? “Absolutely marvelous.”

“Shall I take that as approval? Or would you like me to attempt another?” I glanced down and found him smirking up at me.

“Yes! And yes please! I mean, this is remarkable and I’d... I’d like another.” My enthusiasm turned bashful at the request.

“As you wish.” He paused. “If you would return to the bed?” he suggested with a raised eyebrow as he removed the current plaque and replaced it with a fresh one.

“Oh. Right.” I headed in that direction then stopped. “Actually...” I shrugged out of my jacket and threw it on the back of one of the leather wing-backs. I sat down on the edge of the bed and took off my boots. “Ah, much better.” I reclined again, mimicking the position he had me in before.

“Do you really want the same thing?” he asked passively.

I frowned for a moment. “No... that’s not very adventuresome... oh.” I quickly shifted so that I was sitting up a little more, propped up on my elbow but my torso twisted slightly as I had one leg bent vertically and the other laying flat against the bed. My free arm crossed the open space above me with my wrist resting on my top knee. I gave up looking at my artist for the bookcase to give better access to the profile of my face.

“Very nice,” he approved. “Catches more of your personality.”

“I don’t think reclining on a bed is very indicative of my personality,” I argued. “I am more a up and at them adventurer!”

“Yes, as your stories attest. But with this pose, you are looking ahead to the next adventure even while resting,” he explained.

“Oh, I suppose you are right.” I smiled lightly at his analysis.

“Are you comfortable enough to begin?”

“Yes, I am quite fine.” He began his preliminary sketches again with the light charcoal. That light smile stayed on my lips as I reminisced about the evening. This man was so exotic and yet comfortable and familiar like when he made dishes from my home. Accommodating too. I've had some companions deny my whims or assume the encounter to be something besides what I intended. I use evenings like this to unwind and relax from my travels. Exploring uncharted territory brings excitement and thrill, but also it includes tremendous perils and dangerous unknowns. While my spirit wishes to could go directly from one adventure to the next, the mortal body cannot sustain that. Hence moments of relaxation.

Though, the pose I had taken wasn't the most comfortable for extended periods I found. I fidgeted a little as my shoulder being supported by my elbow began to lock up. I also noticed that my other arm had sunk down. I hastily replaced it with only a slight twinge of protesting muscle.

"Almost done there, chap?" I asked, risking a glance in his direction. My neck also chimed in with displeasure of being held in place.

"Nearly. Please go back to the way you were. I still need some details for your face." My head snapped back into place. I smiled as I heard a soft chuckle. "Thank you." It was another few minutes before he released me from my pose. I collapsed back onto the bed with a heavy sigh. My muscles both protested and relished the freedom of movement. I arched my back for a moment to stretch out some the kinks then I walked over to inspect the work.

Again I was blown away at the talent. I really understood what he meant by looking forward to the next adventure in the way he drew my lines. It really felt like I was looking at something off the side of the plaque besides the bookcase in the corner. And he caught my smile. It wasn’t one of those cheesy harlequin ones that always looked forced. It had that softness about it that I felt my lips mimicking once again.

“Unbelievable. I mean, I saw you draw it right in front of me, but it is stunning to believe it took you such little time to draw this. There are people who call themselves artists that could spend their entire lives trying to draw at the level you just proved in moments.”

“There are still some details I could work out. It’s far from perfect.”

“Only the artist cannot see the worth of his work. Please refrain. If you made it any better I wouldn’t be able to look upon it without believing my gaze would somehow ruin it.”

“As you wish,” he put the charcoal back in the box of supplies. I was staring at the remarkable art, absently rubbing my hand over the back of my stiff neck, as he set the materials in its respective position on the bookcase.

I jumped a little when warm hands joined mine at my shoulders, but I soon relaxed as those long fingers worked magic on my muscles.

“You must be sore from holding that pose. Forgive me for taking so long.”

“Nothing to forgive, chap. With this result, I would have gladly held it twice as long. All day if I had to!”

“Still. Would you like a massage?”


	7. Chapter 7

"Would you like a massage?”

How could I say no with those magnificent hands already working wonders on my body? “That sounds exquisite,” I sighed. His chuckle sounded very nice that close behind me. I held in the whine that threatened when he took his hands away from my shoulders. They reappeared at my waist, gently tugging at my shirt.

“I have oils that help with the soreness and I would not want to ruin your shirt.”

“Of-of course!” With my consent, he pulled the hem up my sides, pausing for a moment at my armpits for me to lift my arms. I didn’t see where he put the garment, but honestly I didn’t care because his hands were on me again. I shivered in pleasure at his touch and let him guide me over to the bed. With little suggestion, I climbed on top of the silk, laying face down. He disappeared for a moment. I still couldn’t hear him move around the room, but then his presence was suddenly by my side again. His weight bent the mattress down slightly as he settled.

There was the clink of glass as he opened a vial that I assumed contained the rubbing oils. The heavy rosemary scent hit me moments before I felt the cool liquid on my back. I gasped at the temperature, my muscles tensing for a moment before his hand moved over them with soothing warmth. The liquid let him glide smoothly over the surface of my back. The oils quickly adjusted to our body heat. He spread it all over, pushing and sweeping his hands to the edges of my shoulders, torso, and waist. The small about of excess went to cover my neck and upper arms to my elbows where the drier skin appreciated the oil. As soon as he had gone over every inch of my back, he began the deep probing of the muscles.

It was heaven. I was unable to hold back the moans as he pushed and pulled against the muscles, teasing the soreness from both the recent session and the deeper tensions from my travels.

“You are an angel,” I groaned as he went over a particularly pleasing spot.

“No,” he responded softly. “I am mortal. Just blessed.”

“So very blessed,” I agreed with a deep sigh.

“I am glad you appreciate it.” I could hear the edge of a smile in his tone. I imagined he was wearing that smirk that had caught glimpses of throughout the evening.

“Who wouldn’t?” I asked genuinely puzzled.

“Clients who are not nearly as travelled as you. They are more likely to dismiss me as just another companion. I rarely have a chance to display myself as I have for you. They have certain assumptions about companions.”

“I’ve met companions with the same assumptions.”

“What are your assumptions?”

“Nothing more beyond rest and relaxation. A night spent with company. I spend too many nights alone during my travels.”

“Do you not have someone to travel with?”

“I have not found anyone to keep up with me. My adventures tend to be a little harrowing and extremely few people can stomach them. I have tried, but I’ve never adventured with the same person twice. Recently I have resigned myself against such attempts.”

“Yet you still travel.”

“How could I not? I am driven by my dreams. Much like you, they have shown me destiny.” He hummed in agreement and I thought about asking him to join me in travels once again. But I could not be so selfish as to entreat him to abandon his dream to join mine.

He continued with his ministrations until my back and shoulders were completely loose and limber. He then shifted his focus to my arms. He started with the one closest to him, adding a little more oil to his palms before working his magic along the biceps and triceps of my upper arm through the forearm and to my hand. He spent some time going over my hand, gripping the muscles of the palm and twining along my fingers. When he was satisfied with his work, he rose briefly and moved to my other side to repeat the pattern with my other arm.

After he finished my upper half, he rose again and moved to end of the bed, moving my legs slightly apart so that he could sit between them. Gently he tugged off my socks and poured more oil over my bare feet. Once again I squirmed a little at the chill as the liquid ran over my heel and down to my toes, dripping to the floor where my feet were hanging off the edge. The difference in temperature was soon taken care of as his hands wrapped around my feet and began massaging them. The pressure of his thumbs was delicious as he ran them along my arches. He stretched the tendons and rolled the thick muscles in the balls and heels. It was divine treatment.

I was nearing sleep under his pleasant care when he asked me, “Would you like me to draw a bath for you?”


	8. Chapter 8

“Would you like me to draw a bath for you?”

“Oh, that sounds wonderful,” I moaned when I thought about washing all of the travel grime off of me. I would miss the smooth feeling of the oil on my skin but the idea of being fresh and clean easily overrode that.

“I will have it ready shortly.” He disappeared from the bed as I pulled myself together to stand. That was a harder feat than it sounds when all of my muscles were turned to jelly.

Finally I got to my feet as I heard rushing water. I looked around for its source and discovered both a doorway leading to the other room that I had not been aware of previously and a silk robe hanging the back of a leather chair. While the door might have been there the whole time, the robe had not. I smiled at his forethought and quickly divested myself of my last piece of clothing, wrapping up in the available pale green fabric. The silk was smooth against my skin, catching only slightly where the oil hadn’t been completely rubbed in.

I followed the trail of steam into the second room where my companion was tending a great copper basin. It was long and large enough that I could completely immerse myself if I so desired. I could smell the light scent of mint in the steam from the water that flowed from the pipes to the basin. I padded across the room to his side, my steps quiet on the smooth tile.

“Feel free to check the temperature while I get the soaps.” He stood up from the edge of the tub and walked over to the cabinet on the far side of the wall. In his place, I leaned over and dragged my fingers through the water. It was scalding hot. Perfect. I shrugged out of the robe, tossing it on a nearby rack, and stepped into the tub. I sighed a long groan of satisfaction as I lowered myself into the hot water up to my shoulders. He looked over his shoulder at me with a raised eyebrow. I grinned at him and submerged. The heat deliciously scalded my skin from my toes to my scalp.

I broke the surface again with a gasp and then settled down with my back against the basin, my arms and neck comfortably resting on the wide curved lip. Another happy sigh escaped my lips.

“Comfortable?” he asked as he returned with a small tray of several glass vials.

“Extremely. There is nothing quite like a hot bath to make up for the cold ones on the road.”

“I see.” He sat on the stool beside me and began adding his potions to the water. I marveled at how the opalescent and rosy liquids spread across the water before sinking below to be mixed by the running water. Soon a soft layer of foam covered the surface. The small bubbles tickled lightly where they caught on my chest. I caught subtle tones of rose, gardenia, and jasmine alongside the crisp scent of mint as warm vapors lifted from the water. I breathed in deeply, feeling the cleansing sensation all the way into my lungs.

I was so relaxed that I didn’t even twitch when I felt his fingers run through my wet hair. He carded through it, lightly tugging out knots that managed to snarl up despite its short length. After he had smoothed it all out, I heard a clink of glass indicating that another vial was opened and then felt liquid poured onto my head. His fingers returned to my scalp but this time it was to rub in the shampoo. The small circular motions he used to push the suds around were as good as I expected from the previous massage. I let my head roll back into his hands, glancing up. I caught his upside down visage with that same almost smile. I grinned back at him and then closed my eyes to relish the sensations better.

As he worked to massage the entirety of my scalp with his fingers, he began humming softly. The sensory plethora from the scents of  herbs and oils, the heat of the water, the motion through my hair, and the music from him combined into a heavenly medley. I lost track of time as I enjoyed the experience, roused only when he tapped lightly on my shoulders to indicate that I should rinse. I followed his suggestion, took a deep breath, and slipped under the surface again. His hands followed my hair to help push the hot water through and get the shampoo out.

I resurfaced feeling fresh. I wiped the water from my face and found him standing by the side of the tub. The shoulders of his robes were pushed off, only held up by the belt at his waist. To keep from getting the sleeves wet I supposed. The broad sculpted shoulders were as good as I had imagined. Just an expanse of sun kissed skin stretched over finely cut muscle. I knew I was staring, but I couldn’t help myself. He knew I was staring as he smirked down at me.

“I have some arrangements that I need to make.”

“Oh that’s perfectly alright! I’ll finish up in here and meet you out there.”

“As you wish.” He bowed slightly and then exited the room, his robes swirling about his legs elegantly. The door closed behind him.

I grabbed a nearby washcloth and made quick work of the dirt and grime on my skin with the soaps he left behind in the water. I ran fresh hot water over my skin and then stepped out of the tub. The towels on the rack were soft and fluffy and made quick work of the excess water. When I was dry, I reached for the silk robe that I wore coming in but found that it had been replaced with a dark forest green one. I had no idea even when he had managed to make the switch. I slipped it on and returned to the main room.

I found him straightening out fresh sheets on the bed, purple silk still only covering half of his body. He looked up at me as I finished toweling my hair.

“That color looks much more appropriate on you.” I glanced down at my robe. It wasn’t my usual cream colors but the darker green did match my eyes. It intrigued me that he would care so. “Would you care for some sleep now?” he asked.


	9. Chapter 9

“Would you care for some sleep now?”

“Indeed. That sounds really good right about now.” I tossed the damp cloth on a nearby table and approached the edge of the bed where he had pulled back the covers. I slipped between the soft white cotton and appreciated the density of the bed. It was firm enough to support me but soft enough for a good night’s rest.

My companion left my side and went over to the table to retrieve the used towel and then disappeared into the other room to attend to the vestiges of the bath, I supposed. I propped myself up on the multitude of pillows that I found along the headboard. The light in the other room went out and a moment later he appeared in the doorway. He paused as if hesitant for the first time all evening.

“Are you going to join me or just stand there sentinel all night?” My comment broke his conflict.

He stepped forward, smirking at me, “As you wish.” He strode about the room in his unhurried grace and turned off all but one of the lights, leaving the one glowing dimly by the door of the room. I saw nothing but a brief silhouette as he came over to the bed, flipping open the covers and joining me.

I reached out into the dark and eventually my fingers brushed against warm smooth skin. He stayed silent as I scooted closer to him and arranged us to my liking. We were on our sides facing each other. My head was tucked up near his collar bone, resting on his arm as if it were a pillow. His other arm was draped across my waist, fingers gently curving around to my back. My arms were tucked between us, pressing lightly against his chest, and our legs were tangled slightly. We settled into position very quickly, his bodily warmth enveloping me pleasantly.

“Is there anything else that you require?” he asked softly.

“No. I just like the companionship.” I understood what he was asking, but that wasn’t what I wanted. “Makes those other nights not as bad when I get to look forward to moments like this.”

He hummed in agreement. Silence fell between us again. The slow rhythm of his breathing began to lull me into sleep. His hand absently came up from my waist to stroke the back of my hair. I sighed happily and snuggled it a little closer to him. Under the scents of flowers and mint from the bath he had another personal scent that reminded me of summer days spent in fresh air and golden sun. I smiled as I breathed it in deeply.

“Is there anything else that you want?” he asked even softer, not wanting to disturb me but needed to be reassured.

The idea of him travelling with me jumped to the front of my thoughts. “No,” I replied simply.

I could feel my body becoming limp and heavy from the fatigue of the day and the relaxation of the evening. Sleep welcomed me into it’s deep embrace as I thought I heard the whispered words, “As my dreams wish, I would travel...”

****

Morning came gently. My dreams slowly released me back to consciousness after showing me the gleaming shores and tropical waters of my next destination. My surroundings were nice, soft, and warm as I became aware of the bed again. I twisted my body slightly to wake up my muscles and I brushed against cotton and skin. I opened my eyes and was greeted by a soft almost-smile that caressed fine lips and was even captured in two orbs of golden amber. I grinned back at him and I see his smile sharpen a little.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning indeed! What a magnificent way to wake up!”

“I hope you slept well.”

“Very much so. Universes better than trying to catch some winks of a train. Those blasted rails have no sense of rhythm. Always waking me with a rough turn right as I get to good dream.”

“Did you have good dreams last night?”

“Wonderful ones. It appears as if I am to travel next to a sunny paradise! Adventure awaits me on white sandy beaches and crystal clear waters.”

“Sounds like quite the expedition planned.”

“Planned? Oh no, I don’t plan. Where’s the fun in that? I’m just going to to point myself east and hope I end up there.”

He raised an eyebrow at me. “That is how you travel?”

“Yessiree!  I’ve gotten into several pickles that way but it’s so very liberating.”

“Fascinating.” The smile brightened up another couple of notches.

“Say, how about if your dream man doesn’t appear before I swing by here next, would you come travel with me?” And just like that, the warmth of his smile faded and he slipped behind a carefully mask.

“If you pass through this area again, I will consider it.” He rolled away from me and climbed out of the bed. “Would you care for some breakfast before you depart?” He pulled the edges of his robes back up over his shoulders.

“Do you have any more fruit from dinner?” I asked in between yawning.

“Certainly. I will have it brought from the kitchen.” He moved to the door, opening it briefly and then disappearing from view. I finished stretching and rose from the bed. I walked over to where my clothes were neatly folded. I shimmied into my pants before untying and shedding the robe. I slipped my shirt on and was shrugging into my jacket as the chamber door opened again.

He carried the tray over to the table where we had played chess. On it was a variety of fruits already sliced and ready to be eaten. They looked appealing as ever, but I noticed that none were carved as they had been last night. I grabbed a couple pieces before I retrieved my shoes, sitting down on the creaky leather chair to put them on.

“I hope you had an enjoyable stay here.”

“The best I’ve had. Even ranks up there with some of the escapades I’ve had a old ruins filled to the brim with skulls.”

“I will take that as high praise. I shall take these to be wrapped and available for when you are ready to leave,” he declared, picking up the two drawings he had done for me.

“Wait!” I intercepted him in the middle of the room. “Erm...” I stuck out my hand. “Thank you.” He had to shuffle the drawings into one arm, resting them on his hip. “It has been a real pleasure meeting you. I hope my dreams set a path back here.”

He gripped my hand tight and murmured something that sounded like hope soon.

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that.”

“I hope your dreams take you where you need to be.” He released my hand and continued out of the room.

I returned to finish my breakfast, then gathered my things and went to the compound’s master to pay for my stay. I set out for my next adventure with the morning sun at my back.


	10. Chapter 10

I pick my drink up as I finish my story. I let the amber liquid both soothe and burn my throat. “It was the most amazing night of my life. He was amazing.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

“Travelling. Seeing the world. Exploring. What else would I be doing?”

“You miss the point. Why are you doing those things alone?”

“Because no one compares to him.”

“Why isn’t he travelling with you?”

“Because he is waiting for someone.”

“For who?”

“For someone to take him away I guess.”

“Did you ask to take him away?”

“Of cour-” I stop mid word. Realization hits me like an uppercut to the jaw. “Oh.”

“What are you doing here?”

“What am I still doing here?” I leap to my feet. “Do you know when the last train rides out?”

* * *

I burst into the garden. The gate knocks noisily against the wall where I have flung it. My feet still themselves when I catch sight of him. Reclining in the chaise lounge next to the reflecting pond, he is the picture of poise and elegance. Instead of the robes that I had last seen him in, he is now adorned with loose silk shirt in royal purple and matching silk paijamas. His golden amber eyes match with mine as I take in his appearance, his presence.

“You’re still here,” I am slightly breathless from my sprint between the station and the compound.

“Of course I am. I have been waiting.” Amusement at my state drifts onto his face.

“You knew all along, didn’t you?”

“I had my suspicions,” he answers with that knowing smile of his. “You were the man of my dreams right up to the point where you would know me. But now you know.”

“Now I know,” I repeat. “Do you travel?”

“Yes, but not beyond the market.”

“Would you come with me?”

“It would be my pleasure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was fun to write. I know I didn’t quite catch all of their characteristic (read: How do I Jake?) but I think I came close enough that the characters are recognizable for who they are supposed to be. I didn’t want to write the epilogue at first but then I really really did. So it happened.   
> My favorite part of writing Dirk is his acceptance of his fate, the fact that he is freaking good at everything, and his attention to detail. The sendificator scene (from MSPA) really got me (read: I flipped out for a good 24 hrs before I realized there was more to the update). I hope I portrayed some of that? Maybe, probably not.   
> My favorite part of writing Jake was how blase he can be about jumping out of a train. That line makes me happy. I sorta wish it was said out loud so that I could capture Dirk’s reaction to it, but I’m not sure what that would be.  
> Anyways, enough about the story you just read. Please feel free to leave reviews and critiques, comments and questions, anything. Also feel free to follow me here on AO3 for more Homestuck writing or follow me on Tumblr at aeacustero for other stories including my personal ones. Thanks for reading!


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